


Measure Still for Measure

by orphan_account



Series: Brocol lerayt edek?; or, Trektober 2020 Challenge [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Boredom, Existential Angst, Internal Monologue, M/M, Minor Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Pining Elim Garak, Trektober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26830219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Garak finds himself filling an order that leaves him less than inspired.Trektober 2020: October 3rdPrompt: In Uniform
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, implied
Series: Brocol lerayt edek?; or, Trektober 2020 Challenge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955005
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11
Collections: Trektober 2020





	Measure Still for Measure

Starfleet loved to caricaturize itself in even the more trivial details of its existence. Take, for example, its uniform. Garak had heard it called “sleek.” A much more apt term would be “frail.”

Officers wore no armor. The flimsy fabric clung so tightly to the bodies of Starfleet personnel that every thinly muscled bone was open to appraisal. Nothing, no padding or protective plates, to even give the illusion of fortitude or strength. It was as though they revelled in vulnerability! Even a Klingon’s flair for intimidation diminished sorely in those sanctimonious jumpsuits.

True enough, he reminded himself, as he hefted a bolt of drab wool gabardine, that the shape of certain officers  _ were _ pleasing to view,  _ trim _ though they were. And, the uniform certainly did not obscure those certain officers’ features. Neither, of course, would a brocaded tunic with a more appealing (and revealing) neckline—  _ Don’t get distracted, Elim. _ Then again, Starfleet could hardly be credited just because one officer, born centuries after its founding, had a figure that was aesthetically attractive.

He shouldn’t get grumpy. After all, it wasn’t  _ every _ day that he had the rare entertainment of taking a Ferengi’s money. Not that there’d been much haggling. Rom almost seemed glad to deposit the latinum into his hand. Perhaps this was why Quark did not have a high opinion of his brother. He was not much of a Ferengi; but, perhaps, a more estimable father than most.

Garak laid the bolt on his work table, alongside his tailoring tools. He sighed. So, Nog was aspiring to join Starfleet. A most unpredictable development… If things were going to continue in this erratic manner, he would need to hone his skills indeed! He smirked, momentarily amused.

_ What I do not need is to be hunkered over, with needle and thread, for hours, staring at a Starfleet uniform _ , he thought blisteringly, plucking a few keys on his PADD to retrieve Rom’s measurements for Nog.  _ Such is life … for now. Perchance not for always _ .

Scanning the numbers, he sighed again. “Ah, Ferengi.” Garak muttered. “I do suppose it’s too much to hope that Rom would know how to take measurements for clothing.”

He sent along more precise instructions, then discarded the PADD. Even if he didn’t have the creative passion to apply to this particular task, he at least had the integrity to produce a quality product. Let it not be said that any garment from  _ his _ shop was ever ill-fitting.

Wryly, he let the irony of his indignation settle. What was that old adage about measuring reliability by irony? He didn’t recall. He’d have to share it with Julian, if he ever remembered it. It may ignite some compelling philosophical arguments.

Finally, after smiling to himself for far too long, but regaining his spirits, he mused:  _ Perhaps a little diverting daydreaming might not exactly hinder my productivity. _


End file.
